


Masquerades & Mysteries

by DearHeartx



Series: Too Well Tangled, the Lucette De Sardet Saga [1]
Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-10-25 14:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20725844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearHeartx/pseuds/DearHeartx
Summary: Lucette De Sardet is sorely disappointed with Kurt refuses to attend the first masquerade ball of the season, but things start to look up when a strangely familiar masked gentleman catches her eye and heart.





	1. Courtiers and Couriers

**Author's Note:**

> SFW until Chapter 5.

Captain Kurt of the Royal Continental Guard rested on his elbows as he leaned over the stone parapet and bit into a hard, green apple. His face puckered at the bitterness and he resisted the urge to chuck the unripe fruit at Prince Reginald’s head. Reginald and Lucette had been taking a turn around the estate gardens for the better part of an hour. What someone who sat in a stuffy office all day with only his financier’s to keep him company could regale her Highness with at such length was beyond him.

Kurt wasn’t even sure why he watched this. He hated it. Hated that week after week, nobleman after nobleman came to the estate to snake their way into Lucette’s heart and take her away. But there was no point standing in the way of progress. He certainly had no right to impede her happiness. Regardless of his feelings, he was a commoner. A lowborn commoner, at that. While she may pass time with him playing chess or sparring on the odd evening, he’d never be daft enough to think he could keep Lucette’s attentions to himself. He should feel honored someone so far above his station even speaks to him with such grace.

Lucette’s loud laugh pulled him from his thoughts and he couldn’t help but feel smug. Lucette threw her head back, hand over her heart, and laughed louder than necessary. It was what he knew to be her polite, fake laughter. He’d lost count how many times she’d done this. At least Prince Reginald—the utter boob—wasn’t in the running.

They turned the corner in the gardens and Lucette caught his eye. She flashed him a genuine, beaming smile and all the bitterness within him melted. He’d go to hell and back to see her happy. Even if it meant he lost her forever.

Reginald noticed the change in her demeanor and followed her gaze. The Prince’s dark, bushy eyebrows fell and his lips pursed. Kurt could see his mouth moving but couldn’t hear what was being said. Lucette smiled pleasingly and shook her head, her mouth moving. Her eyes darted to Kurt and back to Reginald. Kurt straightened, every muscle in his body tense.

Reginald grabbed Lucette’s arm and pointed to Kurt. Kurt took off down the stone steps. He was halfway to her when he heard her cry out.

“Unhand me, sir!”

“I should have known there was a reason you were yet to be betrothed. You’re slumming with the help, you harlot!”

Kurt skidded to a halt behind Prince Reginald. He reached out to grab his shoulder so he could throw the most devastating punch possible, but Lucette beat him to it.

Her dainty fist reared back and cracked into the Prince’s nose before Kurt even registered she’d moved. Reginald staggered backward, clutched his face as blood seeped through his fingers, and yelled for his manservant.

“I’ll see that you're attended to. Then you may find your way out. Good day, Prince Reginald.”

Kurt stared at her, awestruck. His heart swelled with pride when he watched her curtsy at the man as he writhed in pain. He followed after her and knew better than to ask if she was okay. Lucette was perfect.

Reginald’s manservant was waiting in the wings of the main hall when they entered the estate. Lucette pulled him aside and asked that he find his employer, care for his wounds, and then leave the residence as swiftly as they were able. Kurt folded his arms across his chest and didn’t bother hiding his victor’s grin.

The manservant scurried away and Lucette turned to Kurt, her pale green eyes soft and apologetic. She opened her mouth, presumably to apologize, which he wouldn’t allow. But before either one could say anything, another servant arrived at her back holding a thick, decorated envelop on a dark pillow.

“Beg your pardon, your Excellency.” The young girl curtsied.

Lucette smiled and the servant relaxed, an immediate reaction everyone seemed to have to De Sardet’s smiles. “Thank you, Millie.” She took the envelope and dismissed the girl. She was gingerly opening the carefully decorated paper when Constantin came crashing down the hall.

“Dear Cousin! Did you hear?” He spun in excited circles, his arms held out like a pinwheel. “The first ball of the season! A masquerade, even!” Constantin stopped a few feet short of reaching them, his feet stuttering to a stop. His excitement faded and his smile slowly melted away. “Kurt.”

“Your Highness,” Kurt said, trying to keep his tone light.

“I hope you can spare my fair cousin for an evening. I’m sure it will be nobility only.”

“Constantin!” Lucette scolded, gasping in utter horror. She turned a sorrowful eye on Kurt, but his focus was solely on Constantin, a stormy glower consuming him. Lucette continued to chide Constantin, but Kurt heard only every other word.

A ball. A masquerade. With Constantin on her arm. He was sure to ply her with alcohol and push her into the arms of every cretin he’d met at university. The brat wasn’t wrong though, balls were reserved for nobility.

“—Sure I can get you on the guestlist if I request my personal guard be allowed.” Her fingers squeezed his forearm and his whole body felt like it’d been set on fire.

He sputtered and coughed. “No, no. Don’t.” He tried to ignore the stabbing guilt in his chest at her crestfallen expression. “I haven’t had a night off in ages. I have some errands that sorely need attending,” he lied with such ability it scared him.

Her expression lightened, if only by a measure, and she nodded. “As you wish.”


	2. Revelry and Rivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kind words :) I wish I could write as quickly as my mind spins the tale of these two. We’d have a whole novel by now! 
> 
> A/N: Mean Constantin is because he loves De Sardet so much. That said, I don’t think I’ll pursue the same type of dynamic in my other stories with Kurt and Lucette. I had to rewrite this chapter a few times because I didn’t like making Constantin mean. =/ Anyway, I hope you enjoy!!! <3

Constantin and Lucette picked through the displays of gowns and doublets, searching for the perfect outfits for the upcoming masquerade. Each article of clothing was quickly discarded as they discounted it from the running. Buried underneath a pile of brightly colored taffeta lay a dark, subtle piece that caught Lucette’s eye. She gasped and clutched the silk brocade to her chest, spinning on her toes. “What do you think?” She asked the men when she came to a stop.

Kurt folded his arms and leaned against the wall, keeping careful watch over his charge. He couldn’t help but smile at her cheeky swish of the fabric. “Any man would be mad to deny you whatever you ask.” His voice lowered, “Especially wearing that.”

She dropped the dress, taken aback and a blush rushed up from her chest to her cheeks. The comment was subtle, said without any hint of tension, but it hadn’t passed her. She opened her mouth, an easy flirtation ready on her tongue, but Constantin interrupted with another derisive snort.

“It’s not untrue; But you’ll need to carefully decipher a man’s intentions. And his worth.”

“Constantin,” Lucette warned.

“But my dear cousin, it’s true!” He walked over to her and shooed her behind the dressing screen and pushed the dress into her hands. “You never know when a man may be boorish, raised by ruffians.”

Lucette looked at Kurt apologetically, but the guard was looking pointedly at the ground and otherwise made no indication that he was even listening to Constantin. She disappeared behind the dressing screen, silently willing Constantin to not begin another big-brother-knows-best tirade.

“Or worse yet, that he’s a cranky old man unable to entertain a spirit as wild and free as yours. My fair cousin, you are something unique, and you deserve someone—“ he glanced at Kurt as though he were an undesirable substance on his shoe, “—who can keep your fire alight for all these years to come.”

The only answer from behind the dressing curtain was a series of subtle grunts as Lucette tugged and wiggled into the nearly perfect fitting dress. Lucette stepped out from behind the curtain, her dress appearing as though it was painted on in all areas save the extra length in the arms, the tumbling fabric of the skirts, and a small gape around the waist. The subtle colors contrasted starkly with the opulent dresses scattered about the room. A simple white blouse was pulled tightly across her chest and tucked into grey billowing skirts. The dress would’ve been nothing special had it not been for the long sleeved taille; its black silk brocade clasped at the collar and spilling down her back and arms, ending in a loosely gathered bustle above her skirts. She beamed when Kurt looked up and unwittingly licked his lips before dropping his eyes and thoroughly inspecting the loose thread in his glove.

Constantin nudged the sleeping dressmaker. “She’s ready, good sir. Make your magic!” Constantin gestured wildly, throwing his hand in the air as if performing his own magic trick, a perfect grin plastered on his face. Despite her earlier embarrassment Lucette grinned back, a spreading warmth for Constantin growing in her chest. Even at his most annoying or intrusive, Lucette knew he meant well.

The slow moving dressmaker placed a wooden stool in front of the mirrors and waved his hand toward it. She complied. Immediately the dressmaker started tugging and pinning at the fabric around her wrists.

“Oh! Shoes!” Lucette instinctively made to leave, but a sharp pain in her hand stopped her.

“No moving!” Came the equally sharp response.

“Constantin, would you go to my room and get my leather boots?”

Constantin’s brow furled. “You don’t want the silk dancing shoes your mother bought you?”

Lucette made a face, her tongue sticking out playfully. “No!” She laughed like the sound of sleigh bells carried on a winter’s wind, “I think the boots would compliment the outfit better.” Her chest exploded with butterflies when she saw Kurt’s poorly hidden smile.

“As you wish, dear cousin.” Constantin bowed and bounded out the door.

“Well?” Lucette prompted Kurt, trying to ignore the dressmaker as he started to pin around her chest and waist.

Kurt swallowed hard. “Hell fire, green blood.” His eyes briefly followed the dressmaker’s hands around Lucette’s body before looking away.

“You’re blushing, Captain.” She gazed at him through heavy lashes, chewing on her lower lip. Her thoughts ran wild. She imagined Kurt tearing her dress from her body and castingit into the corner. He would turn his eyes on her, hungry and full of passion. His hands— Her breathing quickened and she jumped when the dressmaker’s pin lightly pricked her chest.

Kurt’s voice hardened, a startling contrast to the voice in her daydream that had just been moaning her name in her ear in exultation. “Constantin wasn’t wrong, your Excellency.”

Ice ran throug her veins, both at his words and at his boldness. “Excuse me?” Her face flamed with hot shame. Not only had she been caught mid-fantasy, but he chose this moment to chastize her.

“I...” Kurt stumbled over his words. “I beg your pardon, if I overstep my bounds, but someone with as much natural beauty as you...” He scraped his hand over his face and pressed the heal of his hand against his mouth while he debated his next words. “Someone of your station must pay special care to who earns your affections.”

Lucette blinked rapidly at him, stubbornly refusing to let her glistening eyes show.

Kurt continued. “You shouldn’t be wasting your time on nobodys without land or title.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover his obvious discomfort.

“Enough, enough.” She batted the dressmaker’s hands away. She stormed off the pedestal and made her way toward the door.

“Green Blood, wait!” Kurt tried to grab her arm as she swung the door open, but she wrenched out of his reach. “Where are you going?” He made chase.

“Leave me alone, Kurt. I’m trying to find somebody who owns some land, maybe that way I won’t be wasting my time,” Lucette snapped as she continued to march down the hallway, still barefoot and wearing her masquearade gown full of pins.

Calming down with every stomp, Lucette continued past her bedroom door and went up a staircase at the end of the hall. She fought the urge to roll her eyes every time she heard Kurt’s armor rattle behind her. Knowing his engrained fear of heights, she continued to the tower attic and pushed open the window.

“Your Excellency, no.” Kurt warned.

She smiled, every bit of a dare held within, and stepped out onto the gently sloping roof.

“Come back inside, please.”

“It’s nice out here, Kurt. You should try it,” she laughed, her irritation with him completely forgotten.

Kurt leaned out the window, but only a stream of curses came out of his mouth. “Apologies, Green Blood. You’ll have to enjoy the view on your own...” He took a steadying breath. “But I’ll gladly keep you company from in here... If you’ll have me.” He sat on the stone floor and leaned his head against the open window sill.

Lucette smiled softly. She’d have him. She would take him over anyone. Over titles and lands. Over riches and royalty. If only she could tell him that he was all she’d thought about since he’d come into her life six years ago. It had been a school girl crush back then, but she knew him now. He’d been the one to hold her while she sobbed the night her father left. _Family is what you make it, Green Blood. _He’d been the one to beat down the door to the doctor in the middle of the night when Constantin got severely ill and she thought they’d loose him. _His Excellency is strong. No one that stubborn is going to fall due to illness._ He’d been there when the boy who promised her the world took her virtue and left her with nothing. _Everyone gets what’s coming to them in the end, Green Blood._ The next day the boy sported a broken nose and two black eyes; she’d never asked Kurt what had happened, but they both knew.

“Kurt?” Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t sure he could hear, but she didn’t think she had the courage to speak any louder.

“Yes, Green Blood?”

“I think you’re anything but a waste of time.”

Everything was quiet and Lucette worried she had overstepped.

He coughed, but she could hear the smile he was trying to hide. “Thank you, your Ex—“

“Lucette,” she corrected.

“Thank you, Lucette.”


	3. Invitations and Insinuations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucette’s age has been very, very vaguely hinted at, but since we’re getting close to some NSFW chapters I should state that she is 19 when they finally get together.

They’d reveled in their quiet conversation, but after an hour or two, Kurt had coaxed her off the roof and back on solid ground with promises of food. Lucette’s stomach fluttered marvelously as she strolled down the corridor with Kurt. And she was fairly certain it wasn’t from hunger. She cast a shy glance at him, her lips tugging into a smile despite herself.

“What?” Kurt said, his smile matching her own.

Not quite ready to let go of the privacy they’d created for themselves on the rooftop, Lucette grabbed Kurt’s arm and pulled him through the doorway they were passing and onto the terrace, away from the prying eyes of other guards and her family.

Kurt initially stiffened at her touch, his eyes darting around to check for superiors or comrades who may see Lucette’s fingers dancing along his body with such familiarity.

Lucette stepped into his space, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his chest but not so close as to touch. Not so close as to soothe the ache he’d been feeling for so long.

Kurt’s troubled eyes stilled, his expressed startled and unsure, but not unwelcoming. “Your Excellency, I—“

“Kurt, how many times must I tell you, call me by my given name.”

“Why are we here, your—“

Lucette glared, her small features turned up at him, hands on her hips.

“Why are we here, Lucette?” Kurt whispered, a hot gust of air rushing out of him at her growing proximity, her boldness.

She pulled away slightly, suddenly embarrassed. “I thought I’d ask one more time if...I wondered if you might...” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit. He smiled softly at the familiar movement and she renewed her strength. “I was hoping you’d accompany me to the masquerade tomorrow evening.”

Kurt’s hand reached down, his fingers nearly grazing her cheek, but with sudden fervor he clamped his hands behind his back at attention. “I’m sorry, your Excellency. Tomorrow night is my night off.”

Lucette felt the familiar sting of early tears at his rejection. Her pain must’ve shown because Kurt’s expression softened. Her stubborn pride swelled within her and she turned, her heels clicking away.

“Lucie—“ He reached out and grabbed her hand, his fingers shaking as he pulled her back into his chest. “I’m sorry. I want you to enjoy yourself. If I am there, I would only serve as a distraction. Your mother would want you to seize this opportunity to meet the eligible men of Serene.” His mouth twisted like the words physically hurt him to say.

Lucette beamed at him, hardly processing what he’d said to her. She played with his fingers, pulling and twisting them between her hands.

His brow fell in question.

She laid his hand palm up on top of her hand and drew gentle circles in his palm with her other index finger. After a moment she looked into his crystal clear blue eyes and said, “You called me Lucie.”

His eyes traced over every inch of her face, lingering on her lips. Kurt could only hear their breathing and his own heart hammering in his chest. His eyes burned into her with an intense need and he leaned in to kiss her, forethought abandoned. Her hand traveled up his chest and cupped his cheek, her delicate skin scraping against his sandpaper-rough beard. He heard her stuttering breath, the tiny gasp that escaped her as her eyes fluttered close. Looking down into her fragile, expecting face his excitement turned to sudden terror and instead of meeting at the mouth, Kurt tilted his head and leaned his forehead against hers.

“We can’t.”

Lucette bit her lips, holding back her cry of frustration, but a small groan escaped her.

“I can’t,” Kurt emphasized. “I want to. Hell fire, I’ve never wanted anything more.” Henuzzled his forehead against hers and traced her jawline with the pad of his thumb. “But I can’t. And I can’t escort you tomorrow evening. I can’t stand the thought of watching men strut around, showing off their money, their horses, their clothes, their jewelry, their status. Everything they can provide. Every way in which they’re better for you than me.”

Lucette walked backward, pulling a reluctant Kurt along with her. She backed up until her body hit the guard rail of the balcony. “They may have everything my mother wants for me. They may have money, and land.” With every item she ticked off, she tugged him closer until he was forced to cage her body with his arms, his hands resting heavily on the guard rail. “They’ll all likely have titles and noble heritage.”

Kurt tried to pull away, but Lucette grabbed his belt and pulled him back to her. His eyes widened and he looked down at her in awe.

“But they’re missing one very important quality.” She tugged softly at his belt that her finger still looped through.

“What’s that?” He asked, his voice suddenly very husky and his visage remarkably pale.

“They aren’t you.” She tugged a final time, this time hard enough to pull him into her. His center collided with hers and he only kept from toppling over on her because he was holding onto the railing. She shifted her weight anxiously as though she were fighting the urge to wrap her leg around him, but she didn’t move. She stood stock still. She was waiting for him to come the rest of the way on his own.

His breathing quickened to match her short pants. He traced her jaw line with his thumb again, but this time instead of dropping his arm, his hand slid behind her head and pulled her toward him. He was committed this time. The terror was still there, still fresh in the forefront of his mind. But damn it to the void, if she wasn’t worth it. He pulled her in close and dragged his nose down hers. She gave the same stuttering gasp and a smile broke out over his face. Kurt let his lips dip down and graze Lucette’s, soft and warm. He made to deepen the kiss when she screamed and pushed him away.

Kurt made to apologize, but couldn’t form words. He found himself unable to do anything but stare at her, dumbfounded. A mixture of emotions overwhelming him. Elation that he’d finally kissed her, fear for what that meant in the future, and utter confusion at her reaction.

Lucette ignored his stammering and started to pull her dress’ corset away from her body, exposing more of her chest than was appropriate.

“Your Excellency!” Kurt exclaimed as he turned around, his hand shielding his eyes. Inwardly, he commended himself for responding properly, but chastised his body for it’s immediate response.

“The pins! That damnable dressmaker left his pins in my dress!”

Kurt snorted into his hand, now only halfway shielding his face. “As I recall it, you didn’t give him much choice in the matter.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours Green Blood, always yours.”

She nodded in agreement and took Kurt’s offered arm. He escorted her back to the dressmaker, careful to not walk too fast and push the awkward pin further into her. The entire time they played tag with their furtive glances and shy smiles, but neither one mentioned what happened or what it meant moving forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up: Lucette makes her grand entrance at the masquerade


End file.
